The Pale Tower
The coal cart shudders to a halt, and the smell of wet slate and rotting straw hits you before the gates do. You are twelve, Thomas Vane, and you are being delivered to Blackwood Asylum, a place where the air tastes of iron and the silence has a weight that presses against your eardrums. You want to survive the winter, to keep the mind that is yours intact, but the opposing force is not just...
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